


Mercy

by emmakaito



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmakaito/pseuds/emmakaito
Summary: It was strange.  This wasn't his responsibility.  That boy wasn't his problem but something about him...'He's like me.  Or he could be like me.  When I leave here, I can't go without finding out if he's open to the opportunity.  He'd make a good Hunter.'
Relationships: Ging Freecs/Kaito | Kite
Kudos: 13





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> Title, summary, and rating may change later.
> 
> While I'm writing this, if I make any mistakes regarding nen, which I still don't fully understand, please feel free to correct me.
> 
> And fair warning, this story will tackle the subject of rape/sexual assault but not all at once and it won't be brought up at all until a few chapters in.
> 
> Disclaimer(s): Hunter x Hunter and its characters belong to Yoshihiro Togashi.

The cold bit through his cloak and sweater, both worn by time and use. The aches in his body felt overwhelming: a sore throat, thickness in his chest, and the heat of his skin, like a furnace. His eyes felt heavy, sleep always escaping him.

The pain in his stomach, gnawing and persistent, reminded him he hadn't eaten in...was it four days now? He couldn't be sure.

No one else around, everyone sheltered in their homes. They wouldn't help him anyway. They never did.

Not without a price but he pushed those thoughts aside.

The shops and homes that should have been warm and welcoming were cold and forbidding. He only blamed himself, despised as a local thief. He did what he had to.

He hadn't been able to steal lately. Shopkeepers were more vigilant, giving him no opportunity.

Not even the mercy to pass him any leftovers at the end of the day but he was used to that.

Such an ugly town. He couldn't stand it here but it wasn't safe to travel elsewhere during winter. He was stuck for now.

Something brushed against his hand. A dog. One from his pack, a half-grown pup with missing patches of fur. Almost as thin as him. He always tried to make sure they ate before he did.

It followed him into the alley he'd been resting in for...who knew how long?

A week? Maybe more. He could never know. Days passed in a blur. He had no sense of time.

He stumbled as he turned into the alley, bracing himself against the dog. He struggled to catch his breath while he straightened and made his way to the cardboard box he slept in.

When he curled up inside, his body protesting with every movement, the dogs seemed to slip from the shadows, huddling around him. But even their warmth didn't stop the shivering. The fever held onto the chill.

Everything hurt.

If he could just sleep.

If he could just eat.

If this sickness would leave him.

If it weren't so cold, made worse by the wind.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

Why did he feel so faint?

Was the alley spinning?

What was that dark shape approaching him? Was it a person? It looked like a person. What did they want? Were they going to hurt him?

Didn't matter.

He wouldn't see the sunrise, he knew that. He accepted it. Nothing to be done about it.

If he lived, good.

If not...

It made no difference.

* * *

The unfamiliar city was quiet, almost like a ghost town, but that was the way Ging preferred it. No crowds, and no one knew him as long as he could avoid using his name. No one would bother him.

Pretty town, though. Clean and immaculate. Neat shops and stalls, closed and empty now. Houses and apartments that appeared well taken care of. Seemed a decent place to live, if he were to ever settle down anywhere. Hypothetically, of course. Staying in one place didn't suit him.

The harshness of winter didn't faze him. Clothed in a long-sleeved shirt, sweater, coat, scarf, thick pants and socks, boots, and a cap, the only cold he felt was that on his face. He could handle that.

He wanted to take a closer look around town but first he needed to find a place to sleep. He'd been up for almost a full day now, and could use some rest.

His attention was diverted by a four-legged shape approaching him.

He couldn't help but notice the condition the dog was in, thin and gaunt, a few patches of its fur missing. It seemed friendly as he knelt beside it, voice soft as he talked to it and gently scratched behind its ears.

“You hungry, little one?”

He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and reached inside, fishing out a smaller bag where he kept food for travel. He handed a few strips of meat and slices of bread to the pup, watching with a small smile as it scarfed down the offering.

It wasn't until the dog pawed at the fifth slice, carefully picked it up in its mouth, and began to walk away, glancing back at Ging, that he stood up again.

“Want me to follow you?”

The dog whined at him, looking at the direction it had come from, then back at Ging.

So Ging followed, the dog leading him past several businesses and a line of apartments before turning into a dark alleyway. He paused for a moment, trying to sense anything with _En_ ; he didn't want to assume the worst of an animal but he wasn't about to be lead into a trap. However, he felt nothing wrong with the situation.

Just something...unusual.

Confident it was technically safe, he kept following the dog.

He couldn't see much, just brick walls and a single cardboard box full of dogs on the left.

He looked at the first one he'd met. “One of you needing some help?”

The dog tilted its head at him and walked over to the box. Again, Ging followed.

Up close now, he caught sight of it. A small shape hidden under a heap of canine bodies.

He drew closer; some of the dogs jumped out of the way, some stayed but didn't move to deter him.

A boy, about his age, pale and thin with long silver hair, lay in the box. Asleep, maybe. Hard to tell. He was shivering uncontrollably, and it sounded like he could barely breathe. Suspecting sickness, he pressed a hand to the boy's forehead to find that it was burning.

“Damn.”

The dogs drew close again, whining at him. He petted each of them reassuringly. “It's okay. He might be sick. Let me take care of him.”

He made quick work of taking off his coat and tucking it around the boy for extra warmth. Something ached in his chest when the boy tried to pull it closer, burying his face in the collar, curling into an even tighter ball than he already was, yet still shivering.

Then he called for an ambulance, giving directions where to go, and waited, a hand on the boy's shoulder. He couldn't know if he was even aware of his presence but it was the only thing he could think of to do to reassure him. The dogs stood close; he hoped they understood he was trying to help.

'They must know this boy. Almost like he's part of their pack. But then, how long has he been in the streets for that to happen? Or do they just like him?'

When the sirens drew close, he gently but firmly slipped his arms under the boy's shoulders and knees and lifted him up; his heart sank when he realized he weighed nothing, feather light in his arms. The boy groaned, as if he were in pain, and heaved a few harsh coughs, but didn't wake, instead unconsciously turning into Ging's chest, a small, pale hand grasping onto his sweater, still shivering. Ging could feel the trembling through his shirt and sweater, and prayed this boy could get to the hospital in time.

The dogs followed him up the alley, craning their necks to see if the boy was okay. The first dog stood, paws propped on Ging's thigh, to get as close as possible, nuzzling against the boy's back. Ging smiled and hoped the dog could comprehend his intentions in his voice. “He'll be fine,” he said softly. “I'll get him some help.”

'He's good with animals,' he noted once the ambulance arrived and the boy was sent on his way to the hospital. Lying on his back when Ging, with the utmost care, set him down on the gurney, he got a closer look at a triangle-shaped face with a sharp nose, full lips, and bangs covering his forehead, the longer locks falling between his eyes.

Thin. So thin. And so pale. It scared him, surprising him by the sudden lump in his throat.

'It's okay. He'll be okay.'

The dogs watched the ambulance speed away, sirens wailing. A few of them barked in protest of their companion being taken away.

'Good with animals,' he thought again, staying with the dogs a bit longer, feeding them and calming them down.

Then, instead of a hotel, he made his way to the hospital.

It was strange. This wasn't his responsibility. That boy wasn't his problem but something about him...

'He's like me. Or he could be like me. When I leave here, I can't go without finding out if he's open to the opportunity. He'd make a good Hunter.'


End file.
